


Snowed In

by Runeb19



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fluff, M/M, Stranded, Stranded Together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-10
Updated: 2019-06-10
Packaged: 2020-04-23 19:58:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19157923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Runeb19/pseuds/Runeb19
Summary: After surviving the attack on the Deadlock gang, Jesse was given a different offer: go to prison, or become the first member of the Strike Commanders new pet project. Jesse seized the opportunity to stay out of prison, but everyone seemed to forget to mention that he’d have to travel around the world with the Commander, carry the Commander's bags, talk to reporters on the Commanders behalf, and screen phone calls for the Commander, among other things. After being trapped in Overwatch’s new Arctic Ecopoint during a snowstorm, Jesse thinks he might finally have a chance to get an explanation from the man.





	Snowed In

**Author's Note:**

> You might've noticed from the title that this is a bit...out of season. But sometimes you just get the drive to finish something and I really didn't feel like waiting 6 months to post this. Enjoy!

**Day 1**

 

Jesse wiped some of the fog off the window, squinting at the blizzard raging outside. 

 

“There's plenty of supplies,” The Commander said from the other side of the room. “3 weeks worth, at least. And the extraction should only take 1 week. We’ll be fine.”

 

Jesse turned away from the window, scowling. “We would've been fine at the hotel, too.”

 

“Think of it as a paid vacation.” The Commander almost sounded bored.

 

“Unless the Ecopoint has a hot tub, it don't count.”

 

“It  _ doesn't _ count,” The Commander muttered.

 

“If I'm on vacation I can tell you to stuff it, right?”

 

“I said it's _ like _ a vacation, it's not actually one.” 

 

“Then I won't say it.”

 

Jesse looked around the reception area. It had the best windowed view of the area around the Ecopoint, which was why they had come here to see the storm. There was, thankfully, a couch, and Jesse sat down.

 

“So what do we do now?” He asked, fixing the Commander with something resembling a glare. 

 

In response, the man shrugged, looking up from his datapad. “Fill time. They know we’re here, and extraction will come as soon as possible, but we don't have a connection to the outside. So just make do.”

 

Jesse frowned. “Don't you have your...what was it, a…‘precursor inspection’?”

 

The Commander snorted. “No.”

 

“Wha-” Jesse sat up. “Why are we here then!?”

 

“Because we could get a night away from literally everyone else for once.” 

 

_ We _ . As if.

 

“You could’ve come here  _ alone _ . Then it’d be even better.”

 

“People would’ve been suspicious then. The Strike-Commander conducting an inspection of a new facility alone? No one would ever let that happen.”

 

“You know, you can take days off without dragging me along.”

 

“In theory only.”

 

Jesse had to give him that one. No one had a workload like Jack Morrison, and that included all the grunt work he piled on Jesse.

 

“‘Spose this storm proves why we need this place.” Jesse said, more to himself than the Commander, but the blonde man looked up, frowning.

 

“You're right. Should probably see to making sure this place is better prepared for situations like this.”

 

“That's nice to hear,” Jesse said, leaning back.

 

“I agree. Being prepared is important.”

 

“I meant the part where you said I was right.”

 

“I know.”

 

They sat in silence for a while, Jesse with his eyes closed, trying to sleep, the Commander tapping away on his datapad. 

 

It was a rather comforting noise now, one Jesse had heard countless times, usually when they were traveling, and the odd night when they were in a shared room instead of separate. 

 

“How’re you working,” Jesse said, not opening his eyes. “If we don't have an internet connection?”

 

“There's always busy work.”

 

Jesse cracked an eye open and turned his head to look at the man. “Really, Commander-”

 

“How many times do I have to say you can call me by name?” The man practically growled. “Especially in private.”

 

“Well, I-” Jesse stammered, blushing for a reason he wasn’t quite sure of. “It's not that easy!”

 

“Sure it is. Jack Morrison. Say it with me now-”

 

“I don't mean that!” Jesse snapped. “Of course I can say the words-”

 

“Yet you won’t,”

 

“- _ but _ you’re the Commander!” Jesse continued through gritted teeth. “That’s who you are, to me and the rest of the world! If you’re in a meeting with half the leaders of the free world I can’t be waltzing in looking for my good buddy Jack!”

 

“That’s...what?”

 

“It-it sounded better in my head, ok? Point is, I’m a creature of habits. If I get used to thinking of you as anything other than Strike-Commander Morrison, it’s gonna slip out when it shouldn’t! I already have enough to keep track of with manners and shit.”

 

Overwatch Strike-Commander Jack Morrison was usually better at concealing his reactions, but now elected to outright laugh at his assistant.

 

“You’re an awful boss sometimes.”

 

“Jesse, please,” The Commander said, regaining his composure. “I’m sorry for laughing, but do you really think my  _ name _ is the most important etiquette for you follow?”

 

“Madam Amari was very clear!” Jesse said defensively. The Commander stared at him. “And very scary.”

 

“And also doesn’t go by the title Madam Amari. In… any context.” Jesse met his gaze. “Look, if we’re gonna be trapped here for a week and you call me Commander the whole time, you’ll be the closest you’ve ever come to losing your job. And we both know that is a high bar to clear.”

 

* * *

 

**Day 2**

 

“Find anything good?” Jack asked as Jesse returned to the reception. They’d decided to treat it as a living room, given the open space and comfortable furniture. They’d done a walk through of the compound - the connected parts, in any event - and confirmed they had access to the kitchen and pantry, individual bedrooms, and most of the offices. The other buildings were laboratories and storage, and out of their reach, so long as the storm continued to rage.

 

“That depends on you,” Jesse said, holding up a pack of cards. “You play?”

 

Jack held his gaze for 5 long, silent, seconds.   
  


“I play… solitaire.”

 

“Goddammit.”

 

Jack leaned back in his seat, datapad in his lap, looking amused. “I assume you meant poker?”

 

“‘Course I meant poker.” Jesse was almost offended. “It’d probably take a week to even teach you.” He grumbled, sitting down. “Not like we had anything to bet anyway.”

 

“Well,” Jack said, looking back down at his datapad. “Sounds like I had more success.”

 

“Yeah? You went exploring?”

 

“I didn’t go rifle through the personal possessions of my employees, no.”

 

“Oh, whatever.” Jesse waved a hand dismissively.

 

Jack looked up, a small smile on his face. “I think they’ll be forgiving. What I  _ meant _ was that I checked the outposts digital library. It was brought up to date before we got here. Meaning movies and books.”

 

“Oh! Great!”

 

“Unfortunately, there's only one screen that can access them and no headphones. So no privacy.”

 

“Oh. Less great.” Jesse frowned. “How's that work?”

 

“Computers and the like are personal items. If the scientists want privacy, they had their quarters. But while some items were sent ahead, they'll be bringing some with them.”

 

“And expensive electronics are the kind of thing people would want to keep with them,” Jesse finished, sighing. “What about your datapad? Or mine?”

 

“I don't know how any of that works, do you?”

 

“No, we have people for that.”

 

“People who are only a 6-day snowstorm away.”

 

“There isn't just a password?”

 

“There is.” Jack replied, and Jesse perked up. The silence stretched between them.

 

“Oh, you don't know… right. Remind me to ask for that in advance next time we travel.”

 

“ _ You  _ remind  _ me _ , personal assistant.” 

 

Jesse stuck his tongue out at him.

 

With nothing else to talk about, Jack went back to his work, and Jesse, not wanting to bother the man by rifling through movies, was left to his thoughts. He stretched out on the couch, tucking his arms behind his head.

 

_ Personal assistant _ .

 

That  _ was _ what he was, but he couldn't help but think it had gone on for too long now. He’d been kept so busy the past few years he hadn't spared much thought to the program he had been enrolled in.

 

A public service based rehabilitation program for career criminals that had started when they were minors. The Commander's reasoning, as he had explained it to Jesse, was that many criminals who started young were forced into a life of crime, whether by poverty or pressured into it by other criminals. He felt that men and women in Jesse’s position - and of course, Jesse himself - weren't entirely to blame for their criminal history, and deserved a chance to redeem themselves. Jesse was to be the first member; one whose service was to the Strike-Commander himself, a man physically capable enough to handle Jesse if he needed to, and who would be able to judge Jesse’s progress directly.

 

It made… sense, he supposed. And he was certainly grateful to be kept out of prison, but since he had been picked up, there had been… nothing. Nothing but work. He was paid like any employee, and although a portion of each paycheck could only be spent on food, drink, and board, the rest was available to him with only one other restriction. 

 

Jesse was not allowed to own a gun or any weapon. He’d been told, in no uncertain terms, that a computer monitoring system would know if he tried to buy one, and his probation would be immediately rescinded. He’d been tempted to try anyway, but had always stopped himself. He missed his Peacekeeper, and occasionally wondered what had become of the old revolver, but he wasn't fool enough to push his luck.

 

After that, he was just… an assistant. Carrying Jack's personal effects, screening phone calls and visitors as best he could, being on attendance in meetings in case he was needed. He didn't have the education or training to handle anything more complicated, and he could easily have been replaced by a more capable secretary, but Jack had stubbornly kept him in. What he told others, Jesse didn't know, but the one time he’d raised the issue himself, Jack had told him it was part of the program, and not to bother him with stupid questions.

 

Now that he thought about it, he couldn't remember Jack ever reacting to his questions like that, before or after. He had been… angry at the insinuation the question carried, and after Jesse had assured him he didn't  _ want _ to leave, Jack had dismissed the topic.

 

_ “If you're not asking to leave I don't know why you'd even bring it up! You're not going anywhere. Don't bother me with such a stupid question again.” _

 

Now that he thought about it, Jack has always been touchy about the program. He’d overheard snatches of conversations about it between Jack and Commander Reyes before they’d realized he was there. Apparently, Reyes felt Jesse and those like him would be better put to work for him, but Jack always shouted him down - at one time, quite literally.

 

He’d been just outside the door when he’d realized they'd been inside talking. 

 

_ “Just give it up, Jack! You can't-” _

 

_ “I'm the Strike-Commander of Overwatch! I think I can do this much.” _

 

_ “They're going to dig into the kids records, and they're going to try and use it to dirty your reputation. Just let me-” _

 

_ “No, Gabriel! I've made my decision, and you just need to respect it.” _

 

_ “He was a criminal! He still is a criminal! And he’s always going to act like one! Give! It! Up!” _

 

_ “That is  _ **_enough_ ** _!”  _

 

Jack had practically roared, silencing Reyes. Jesse was frozen solid, but there was no one else close enough to hear. There had been a long silence during which he’d barely dared to breathe, until finally, Reyes had spoken again.

 

_ “So that's it, huh? All for some kid.” _

 

_ “He’s not a kid. He's 25 years old.” _

 

_ “Fine, Jack. Fine. Don't expect me to bail you out when this blows up.” _

 

_ “I can manage my own affairs.”  _ A pause.  _ “I was taught well.” _

 

Jesse had realized too late that it was the end of their conversation, and the door opened to reveal the room. Reyes looked at him for just a second before breezing by, as if Jesse wasn't even there. Jack had looked more tired than Jesse could ever remember, drained in a way his work could never manage. His eyes had found Jesse's, and he asked a simple question.

 

_ “Are you happy here?” _

 

It was an almost ludicrous question. After hearing the man defend him like that? Finding out that for the first time in almost 2 decades he was around someone who really gave a damn about him? It was hard to speak, but he had managed to choke out a response.

 

_ “‘Course I am.” _

 

And Jack had smiled at that.

 

_ “Good.” _

 

And that had been the end of it. They'd never spoken of it again. Jack and Reyes seemed to have eventually mended their friendship, likely thanks to the intervention of one Ana Amari, and things had gone back to normal.

 

“Are you awake?” Jack asked quietly.

 

“Yeah,” Jesse answered. “Jus’ thinking.”

 

“What about?” There was a soft note to his voice, almost gentle.

 

“You. Me. Why I'm even here.” Jesse opened his eyes, and was surprised to find that Jack had moved. The datapad was on the chair, and Jack was standing over him, looking concerned. “What is it?”

 

“You're… expressive. I thought you were having a nightmare.”

 

Jesse swung his legs about to sit up on the couch properly. Jack sat down next to him.

 

“What were you remembering?” Jack asked.

 

Jesse abruptly had the feeling that Jack knew  _ exactly _ what he’d been thinking about. The question was a silent offer, to finally speak of that day, or leave it buried.

 

Unless he was wrong and Jack was just normally concerned, but, well, he could still raise the topic.

 

“That fight you and Reyes had. ‘Round a year ago.”

 

“I thought that might be it,” Jack said quietly, looking at his hands. He seemed… sad. “We never did talk about it.”

 

“What Reyes said about… about my record. How it might be used against you. Was that… true?” Jesse wasn't sure he wanted to hear the answer, but it was one of the two questions that had plagued him since that day. After everything Jack had done for him, he couldn't bear the thought of being responsible for something happening to him.

 

“Sort of.” Jack spoke quietly. “When I took you on, I took responsibility for you. If the record of your crimes went public, it's very unlikely there would be  _ legal _ action taken against me, but it would be used against me publicly, smearing my reputation and image. The fact that I spared a ‘hardened criminal,’” he scoffed at the term, “would be something that would be thrown at me in just about every public forum.” Jesse didn't know what to say about that. He  _ had _ been a criminal. And Jack  _ had _ spared him from a lifetime behind bars. Was a second chance really such a bad thing?

 

“We can… hide, your record, in a manner of speaking. Keep it away from public eyes,” Jack continued, apparently deciding to tell Jesse everything. “Reyes wanted you to work for him. If you did, he could've destroyed your records outright. Obviously we can't wipe the memories of people who saw you, but there wouldn't have been a file for any ‘Jesse Mccree’, even if someone went looking.” Jack shook his head. “But you can't work with me and not have a personnel file, and any attempt to change the record would’ve been more noticeable than leaving it alone.”

 

Jesse digested that, with an odd feeling that Jack hadn't told him the whole truth. He couldn't pinpoint what gave him the feeling, though, and dismissed it.

 

“I don't want to make trouble for you, Jack,” Jesse said, finally speaking up.

 

“Trouble?” Jack sounded amused. “Jesse Mccree, you are the embodiment of the word.” Jack reached over and flicked the hat off his head. “But I think you're worth it.” Jesse grinned in spite of himself, and Jack smiled back, before getting up from the couch and going back to his seat. 

 

Jesse reached down and grabbed his hat, content with their conversation, when a curious thought occurred to him.

 

Jack had said he’d been ‘expressive', but he knew he hadn’t fallen asleep. He hadn’t made any noise or movement. 

 

Had Jack been… watching him?

* * *

 

**Day 3**

 

Jesse was  _ bored _ .

 

The movie he’d turned on failed to interest him, and he had nothing else to do. He was tempted to start guessing passwords to the compounds connections, but even were he successful, he had a feeling that he would be disappointed. Besides that, as Jack had pointed out, it was likely that any such passwords had yet to be changed and personalized, and so were random strings of letters and numbers.

 

There were no real games to play, and the books failed to interest him. He had no artistic talents to occupy himself, no work to do like Jack did, and a man, even one as determined as himself, could only sleep for so long.

 

He stared at the one recourse left to him. The deck of cards.

 

The first issue was Jack not knowing how to play Poker. The second issue was Jesse not knowing how to play Solitaire. The third issue being a complete unwillingness to admit the second issue existed. 

 

And so, in his decisive manner, Jesse decided to tackle the first issue, and pretend the issues that otherwise inconvenienced him didn't exist.

 

“Jack,” Jesse began, strolling up to the man, who looked up at him curiously. “You don't hate me, do you?”

 

Jack blinked, expression shifting into something like alarm. “No! No, of course not.”

 

“Then you don't want me to suffer, do you?”

 

At that, Jack's expression fell into a mix of caution and amusement.

 

“I suppose I don't, Jesse. Provided it is within my power to prevent it.”

 

Jesse nodded sagely. “A good man, a good man indeed.” He took a deep breath, then clapped his hands together in front of him, pleading. “ _ Please _ let me teach you to play poker,  _ please _ , I'm going to lose my goddamn mind!”

 

Jack laughed, setting his datapad off to the side. “My goodness, I've never seen you beg before. I could get used to it.” The air froze between them. “What-” Jack began, before realizing what he'd said. He flushed a deep crimson, unlike anything Jesse had seen before, and began to apologize profusely.

 

“Jesse I'm  _ so _ sorry, I didn't mean- I mean, I didn't realize- it wasn't meant to be-”

 

It was Jesse's turn to laugh. 

 

“Man, we’ll call it a draw. I can't believe you can blush like that. I swear, Jack, you looked adorable!”

 

Then again, there was the sensation of the room turning as cold as the weather outside.

 

“Oh- oh god, I didn't- shit.” Jesse groaned and covered his eyes with his hand, blushing as he did so.

 

Awkward silence filled the room. Jack let out a small cough, while Jesse stared at his shoes. 

 

“We are awful at socializing,” Jesse muttered, just loud enough to be heard.

 

“I agree wholeheartedly.” Jack replied. “So… poker?”

 

-

 

It went well, at first. Jack picked up the rules fairly quickly, and after a few warm up games, they got into it. Jesse scrounged up some cheap beer for them to share, and they began to bet the bottles back and forth as they played. Then Jack, innocent as you please, brought up how he’d heard about strip poker, but didn't know how it actually worked, and hey, it was just the two of them anyway. Jesse, pleasantly buzzed, decided there were worse ways to spend an evening than indulging in the rare pleasure of seeing Jack shirtless, and had accepted the implied challenge.

 

“You sharked me,” Jesse accused, face flush with alcohol, trying not to shiver as he sat in nothing but his boxers, across from the admittedly shirtless - but lacking no further pieces of clothing - Jack Morrison. “You sharked me. This whole night, you've been building up to this all night!”

 

“I  _ am _ sharking you,” Jack corrected, ignoring the second allegation entirely. “The game isn't over.” He too was flush from the alcohol, though he'd had less to drink than Jesse.

 

“Yah aren't- you aren't gonna make me…” Jesse trailed off, looking down at himself. He had used every trick he could think of, from counting his hat to taking each individual sock off at a time, but still, here he was.

 

“No, no, of course not!” Jack said cheerily. “I just want to see if I hypothetically could. I win one more hand, I'm officially the winner, and you can go hide your shame.”

 

“Hey! I ain't ashamed! I work out!”

 

Jack rolled his eyes. “I know Jesse. We work out in the same gym. Now come on, deal.”

 

“Pervert,” Jesse mumbled, fumbling with the cards. “Gonna tell everyone… Strike-Commanders a pervert… tricking his assistant into stripping for him.”

 

“You know, a side-effect of sharing a gym is the fact that I notice you watching me.” Jack leaned back in his seat, face still flush, and spread his arms, so Jesse could see his entire, bare chest. “I know you like what you see.”

 

“Shaddap!” Jesse was blushing on top of being drunk now. “Pervert. Perrrrrvert.”

 

“Maybe you're too drunk for this.”

 

Jesse glared at him for a second, swaying slightly. 

 

“Maybe… maybe I am.”

 

“Would you like to lie down Jesse?”

 

“Yeah… I think-”

 

“And admit defeat to me, of course.”

 

“Never!”

 

* * *

 

**Day 4**

 

Jesse woke up the next morning, a headache beating behind behind his eyes. Despite that, he fought to keep them shut, and curled up slightly, feeling the blanket slip a little from around his shoulders. 

 

There was a blanket around his shoulders?

 

Jesse cracked his eyes open, ready for the blinding light of the reception room, only to find that the room had been pleasantly dimmed. He was curled up on the couch, head resting on a pillow propped up on the arm rest, a blanket wrapped around him. As his blurry vision settled, he could see a glass of water sitting on the coffee table, a note next to it. 

 

Jesse dragged himself upright and reached out to grab the note, holding it up so he could read it.

 

_ Sorry _

 

Jesse rolled his eyes. “Boy scout,” he muttered. He was old enough to know not to leave the water, and downed it. Jack was nowhere to be seen - likely having gone to sleep in a different part of the complex. Jesse’s clothes were neatly folded and stacked on the floor in front of him, well within arms reach.

 

“ _ Boy scout _ ,” Jesse muttered again, with more feeling this time, and he began the slow, careful process of dressing himself without exposing too much of his bare skin under the blanket. The heating system in the ecopoint was state-of-the-art, but only so much could be realistically done when the room was at the edge of the complex in the middle of a snowstorm.

 

As he dressed, he mulled over the events of the previous night. They’d played poker… drank… and definitely, definitely flirted with each other. Drunk or no, they had  _ both _ been flirting. It had gone past simple playfulness on both ends, and that opened up quite the can of worms. 

 

The worst of which was, as Jesse had tried to explain to Jack before, that he was absolute rubbish at policing his own behavior. Bad habits were easy to pick up and hard to put down, and flirting was  _ fun _ .

 

Jesse had only managed to avoid such slip-up by erecting a wall between himself and the man he was undeniably attracted to. Certainly he'd gotten to know Jack over the years, as a professional figure and as a man, but he'd always kept him at arms length, never forgetting that he was the  _ Commander _ , even if the man himself never seemed fussed over being familiar with Jesse once the cameras were off.

 

Now, though, that wall had come crashing down, and fast, and all of Jesse's bad habits were rising to the surface. There was no way this ended well if he kept on the way he was, and he would ruin everything, just like he always did. He could lose his position, lose the few friends he had made, and ruin the best thing that had ever happened to him, and for what? To get laid? No. He'd do better.

 

Besides, he didn't think he could handle Jack looking at him with real anger or disgust.

 

Gritting his teeth, he stood up, the blanket falling from around his shoulders and onto the couch.

 

He'd keep to himself for the rest of the time here. Once they were back among other people, he could go back to normal.

 

His plan was foiled almost instantly, as Jack chose to enter the room right as Jesse was leaving it.

 

They stood for a moment, staring at each other, before Jesse awkwardly pushed his way past, intent on holing up in one of the vacant rooms. He hadn't gone far, however, before a hand seized onto his sleeve.

 

"Jesse!" It was the tone of voice that really got his attention.

 

He turned around to see Jack with an expression unlike anything Jesse had seen on his face before. He looked almost panicky, and a touch desperate.

 

"I didn't- last night- I would never-!"

 

"Jack!" Jesse pulled his arm away as he flushed red, understanding Jack's panic. "I remember what happened! We were just playing a game!"

 

A blush to match Jesse's was creeping up Jack's face, but the panic faded.

 

"Oh-I thought-well." Jack cleared his throat. "What's wrong then?"

 

"Nothing." 

 

Perhaps he answered too quickly, considering Strike Commander Morrison's immediate response was:

 

"Bullshit."

 

The blush, on it's way out, had a resurgence, and Jesse looked away.

 

"Jesse, if I-" that strange, hesitant note was back in his voice, "if I made you uncomfortable, or-"

 

"You didn't!" Jesse interrupted before he could help himself. "I…  _ I _ made me uncomfortable, all right?"

 

Jack was staring at him as though he were mad, but Jesse squared his shoulders and soldiered on.

 

"I shouldn't be associating with you like that. It's inappropriate."

 

Jack actually laughed at that, incredulous. 

 

" _ Associating _ with me? Am I a king now, Jesse?"

 

"You're as close to one as this world's got!" Jesse snapped back hotly.

 

"Jesse," Jack was still laughing, "You've sat in on those meetings! You know how much bureaucratic bullshit I go through to do even the simplest-"

 

"But you're still Jack fucking Morrison!" Jesse yelled, cutting Jack off. "Sure, the longer the world's at peace, the less power the throne has, I  _ get that _ . But what are they really gonna stop you from doing, if you really wanted it, huh? You're a  _ hero _ , you saved the fucking world, and me?" Jesse looked down at his shoes, deflating. "I'm just some nobody thug from the midwest. I ain't fit to even be in the same room as ya."

 

Silence filled the space between them. The distant noise of the storm outside pressed on them, seeming to magnify the quiet between them.

 

And then, without warning, Jesse felt on iron grip on his collar, and before he could say anything, he was jerked off his with unbelievable strength, out of the hallway and back into the reception, before being slammed back against the wall, Jack's other hand grabbing his collar as well. Jesse looked up, bewildered and a little dazed, and found himself almost nose-to-nose with Jack.

 

"What-" Jesse started, but Jack cut him off.

 

"You're in the same room as me," Jack growled, anger set in lines around his handsome face. "And right where you fucking belong, I'd reckon."

 

Jesse's eyes went wide at the rare profanity, and he stayed silent as Jack leaned further away from Jesse's face, though he did not slacken his grip.

 

"I'm just some farm boy from Indiana, you know?" Jack said, clearly still angry. "I was a dumb kid who was bored with life and wanted to escape to the army. And once I was there,  _ they _ made me this. Experiments. Special training and tests. They were out to make super soldiers, and the didn't give a  _ damn _ about how their test subjects felt about it."

 

Jesse was sure his eyes couldn't get any wider. He wasn't supposed to hear this. Rumors of the secret program that had supposedly turned out Jack Morrison and Gabriel Reyes abounded, but confirming it like this was something very different.

 

"And yes," Jack continued, a growl still buried in his voice. "I did my best with it. Went where I needed to go, did what I had to do. And it landed me here. But I didn't set out to be a hero." There was an almost pleading note in his voice now, as though he desperately needed Jesse to believe him.

 

"We aren't so different," Jack said. "Everyone makes choices. I chose to enlist, you chose to run with that gang, but neither one of us knew where our choices would take us, or where we'd end up. And that shouldn't decide your entire life. I knew that. Reyes knew it. That's why we gave you a second chance."

 

Jesse's mouth went dry, but he kept eye contact with Jack, whose gaze softened.

 

"Maybe you'd have been better off with Reyes. More confident, doing what you knew how to do. But you're here now, and  _ I'm not letting you go _ ."

 

A well of emotions surged up within Jesse, carrying with them the one burning question he had been dying to ask Jack all this time.

 

He had been scared at the insinuation that his presence could have somehow hurt his benefactor. Reyes had said as much, and Jesse had wanted to know how. But more than that, what he really wanted to know was:

 

" _ Why? _ " The word burst forth from him, unbidden. "Why do you care so much? I'm just…" But he trailed off, meeting Jack's eyes again.

 

Torturously slowly, Jack pulled Jesse a few inches away from the wall, as he leaned forward. Closer… and closer… and then - he stopped.

 

They were frozen, less than an inch apart. Jesse had closed his eyes in anticipation, and could feel Jack's breath on his, the body heat radiating from him, but nothing happened.

 

And then the man began to pull away.

 

Seized by an indescribable panic, Jesse pushed forward, knocking their foreheads together and sending them both crashing to the floor.

 

Jesse found his head resting on Jack's chest, and balled his hands into fists, seizing part of the man shirts, scared that if he let go, Jack would somehow disappear, the moment and the chance lost forever.

 

He heard a small sigh, and felt Jack shifting under him, until a hand reached and cupped his cheek, lifting his head to be on level with Jack's. 

 

"Well, I tried," the blonde said, a small, amused smile on his face. "Remember that, will you, if you want to complain later." He pulled Jesse's face toward his, leaned in, and whispered, "I tried to stop." And then he kissed him.

 

* * *

 

**Day 6**

 

Neither of them was asleep, but neither was in a hurry to move either. 

 

Jesse rather thought he may never move again. He was lying in bed, head resting on Jack's bare chest, the man's strong arm and a heavy blanket wrapped around him, all while listening to the blondes deep, even breathing

It was the most comfortable he thought he'd ever been.

 

He wasn't sure how long he basked in the sensation before 'officially' stirring, shifting his body so that he was looking up at his partner.

 

Jack cracked one eye open and looked down at him, apparently wanting to know the cause of the disruption.

 

"We should probably… clean up," Jesse said slowly. 

 

"Clean up." Jack repeated.

 

"Yeah. Clean up the Watchpoint. We made a… bit of a mess."

 

Jack grunted in response. 

 

Of course, the mess was mostly strewn office supplied and food wrappers. They weren't  _ savages _ . Still.

 

Jack made a grumbling noise in the back of his throat, evidently reluctant to move.

 

The problem was that the storm had stopped, and while Jack thought his estimate held true - it would take a day, with safety protocols and the actual act of digging their way to the facility for them to arrive - the time table was now a matter of hours, and they had no way of knowing how many were left.

 

"D'ya  _ really _ wanna explain all of that to the press?" Jesse wheedled.

 

Jack sighed.

 

"I'm not cleaning it up alone," Jesse said sternly, dropping his pretense. "'Specially after the state you've put me in."

 

Jack laughed at that, and finally seemed willing to move, though both men took their sweet time extricating themselves from the bed.

 

Jack elected to shower first, Jesse rejecting his offer to share the space. There was enough hot water to go around, and there were limits to his endurance. However, there was only one washroom in the connected part of the base, so Jesse was left to his own devices.

 

He elected to clean the room to keep his hands busy, if nothing else. There wasn't much to do - it was just a few items of clothing that hadn't made it off them before reaching the bed. Still, it was something, and Jack, military man that he still was, wasn't likely to take long.

 

He put the clothing in a neat enough pile in the corner and turned back to examine the room. His eyes lit on the small data pad perched precariously on the edge of one of the bedside tables.

 

He walked over and picked it up, curious. He actually had no idea what Jack had been working on during the first half of the week. 

 

He turned it over in his hands a few times, wondering if he'd be able to guess the password. To his surprise, however, the pad opened without asking for one.

 

At first he was incredulous - Jack didn't have a password on his personal data pad? But then he realized that the device scanned faces to allow access, and remembered that Jack had authorized Jesse to access his personal accounts some months previously, when he had been on the other side of the world and needed some personal files. He must never have removed Jesse afterwards.

 

Knowing he was snooping but too tired to care, Jesse brought up a list of the most recently accessed apps and files.

 

There was a travel form for Berlin, their next official destination. Jack had updated the dates and times, and, Jesse realized, filled in a great deal of his personal information. The realization hit him that he'd rarely done more than sign forms when they went in trips. Jack apparently filled the rest of it out for him. Probably best not to mention that to any officials.

 

There was a basic accounting sheet of their expenses here - mostly the food they'd eaten. It would be a useful reference for the team in charge of cleaning and restocking the base. 

 

Further down on the list was a document that seemed to be a quick list of all of the official events he knew he'd be missing while stuck here. That was dated the day they'd arrived - likely what he had started working on right after they'd settled in.

 

More amusing to Jesse were the few phone games mixed into the list. For all his talk of busywork, Jack hadn't been able to keep working the whole time. He likely hadn't offered to let Jesse play out of embarrassment that the games were on his datapad to begin with.

 

All told, there was more actual work done than he might've guessed, but when his eyes strayed to the top of list, he found himself caught with a strange sense of foreboding. The most recently used application was the camera. 

 

Jesse hadn't even realized the datapad had a camera, and more to the point, the time stamp said it's last use had been last night.

 

While he knew he had been intruding in the first, he felt perfectly justified to continue, and opened the phones picture gallery to see…

 

Himself. What had to be dozens of pictures of him.

 

Jesse blinked, and fascinated in spite of himself, leaned closer to the datapad to look more closely. 

 

The pictures hadn't all been taken recently. The latest was of last night, evidently after Jesse had fallen asleep. The picture was at a rather awkward angle, as Jack clearly hadn't maneuvered much to get the shot, but Jesse could see himself, fast asleep, using Jack as a pillow.

 

The next one on the list was from a few days ago, when Jack had thought him asleep on the couch. The others were from over the years, usually from similarly opportune shots of him sleeping. One that stood out from the rest was a picture that had clearly been taken at the gym. Jack had probably gone down to the gym to pick him up that day. Jesse's back had been turned, and his shirt was off.

 

He couldn't but feel that that was rather flattering.

 

"Jesse the showers-uhhh…"

 

Jesse looked up to see Jack in the doorway, a towel wrapped around, another frozen in his hand, halfway through wiping off his hair, and rather felt that he'd have liked a picture of that himself. But first came the fun part.

 

"'Uhh' is right Jack! What is this?"

 

Jack was rapidly reddening as he glanced about the room, as though looking for an escape.

 

"It's- well, they're- they're…" 

 

Jesse put one hand on his hip, waiting.

 

"They are, um, pictures, that I… would have… deleted… if I had thought this far ahead."

 

Jesse raised an eyebrow. "Pretty impressive, the way you can give an honest answer and completely dodge the question all at once. But I'm not the press, Jack."

 

Jack groaned and punched the bridge of his nose, still crimson in the face.

 

"It- ok, it started normally, I swear."

 

"What does that mean?"

 

Jack rolled his shoulders, apparently trying to will himself to feel less embarrassed. 

 

"Ana and Gabe wanted a picture of you in full uniform. We were in England, I think, right after you'd started, and we had a bet going about how long it would take to wrestle you into your uniform."

 

"Wait, is that why you threatened to withhold my breakfast?"

 

'Withhold' had been used quite literally on that memorable morning. Jack had picked up his fully loaded plate and held it above his head, out of Jesse's reach, so that he had no chance to get it back without knocking the contents to the floor.

 

"Yeah, but they didn't need to know that. Anyway, I had to take a picture, but I didn't want to admit to the bet, so I snuck a picture when you weren't looking. After that, Ana kept bugging me for similar shots. You know she was kind of invested in your early success, but she could only be around so much. Or maybe she just figured that I-" He coughed. "...Eventually, I took a photo for her that I didn't want to delete after. And then… I don't know. There would just be times I'd look over at you… I never really thought about it much."

 

"You thought about it at the gym," Jesse accused, fighting to keep a grin off his face. "I was just admiring my own rippling muscles when you came in."

 

Jack, if anything, turned a darker shade of red.

 

"I! -that's! -oh, fine, I don't have an excuse for that one." He hung his head, defeated, and Jesse, unable to help himself any more, burst out laughing.

 

Jack rubbed the back of his head, still red-faced and sheepish looking, looking altogether like a much younger man than he often appeared to be, and looked up as Jesse walked over, hiccuping himself into quiet.

 

"You're not mad?" Jack asked, a little timidly.

 

"Nah," Jesse chuckled, catching Jack in a one-armed hug and squeezing. "Its weird, but honestly, I just feel flattered."

 

"It's not like I take them all the time…" Jack muttered, taking the datapad from Jesse. "There were just times I looked at you and, well…" He reached and brushed a stray lock of hair from Jesse's face. "It's not like I could do this before, right?" He leaned and kissed Jesse, who in turn wrapped his arms around Jack, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss.

 

"You probably could've," Jesse murmured after they broke apart. "I mean, I would've had questions, but you'd have to go back pretty far to find me refusing a kiss from you."

 

"Yeah?" Jack asked, smiling slightly.

 

Jesse made a show of looking Jack's body up and down, the towel around his waist his only modesty. 

 

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm gonna say yeah." Jack laughed and shoved him playfully, and Jesse took a half-step back before asking:

 

"When did you start thinking you were, y'know, into me?"

 

Jack looked taken aback. "I- well, that's… what about you?" He asked, changing the subject. Jesse, however, was ready for the question.

 

"Easy. Now I don't know if anyone's told you this Jack, but you're a pretty good-looking guy. I've always been  _ attracted _ to you." Jack looked torn between amusement and surprise, and Jesse kept talking. "As for when I realized I  _ liked _ you, it was after that fight with Reyes." Jesse's eyes fell to his feet. "Never had anyone stand up for me like that before."

 

"Oh," was all Jack seemed to be able to manage. 

 

Jesse, however, wasn't done with him.

 

"Your turn, blondie. Spill. Or did you fall for me the moment you saw me?"

 

Jack arched an eyebrow at that.

 

"The first time I saw you, you were covered in blood, dirt, had a black eye, and were chained to a desk. So no."

 

Jesse stuck his tongue out at him, and Jack laughed.

 

"You cleaned up well though. Much more appealing the second time around. Until you started talking, anyway."

 

"Bite me, Morrison."

 

"Maybe if I were a different sort of man." Jesse actually gaped at that, and Jack rather spoiled the moment by blushing.

 

After a moment, the older man cleared his throat and seemed to collect himself, though the effect was rather ruined by his current wardrobe. 

 

Jack gave him a soft smile before he continued speaking.

 

"I can't pinpoint the exact moment. But I'd never had someone around like you were. I mean, Gabe and Ana were friends, but we couldn't be close in peacetime like we were doing the war. And I'd had a relationship before, but that fell apart because everything I was doing got in the way. Neither of those applied to you."

 

Jesse mulled that over, his eyes not leaving Jack, who continued;

 

"I didn't realize what I was feeling until Ana tried to get you re-assigned. That's right," he added, seeing Jesse's reaction. "The fight with Gabe came later. Ana just thought it was time to move you to something else. She didn't understand why I pushed back against it so strongly. I didn't at first either."

 

Jack met his eyes, smiling. "Shame I waited so long to do anything with those feelings." He stepped closer and kissed Jesse on the cheek. "But like I said before, the showers free. I'll get started on the rest of the cleaning after getting dressed."

 

"Right…" Jesse said, walking over to where he'd left the clothes he was going to change into. He turned back to look at Jack. "I don't suppose you could just… clean like that?"

 

"Just because there isn't a blizzard outside doesn't mean we aren't in the arctic, Jesse. I'm wearing pants  _ and _ a shirt."

 

"Darn."

 

* * *

 

Jesse walked into the reception half-dressed, pulling a shirt on over his hair, still wet from his shower. Jack had a garbage bag in the middle of the room, and was examining something, his back to Jesse.

 

"I think this lamps a goner," Jack said, looking at Jesse as he walked over, curious. He sounded a touch guilty, though Jesse was actually pretty sure  _ he _ had been the one to knock that lamp off the end table. Or more accurately, kick it off.

 

He shrugged. 

 

"Ah, well, what's one lamp?"

 

"Not much, but  _ three _ lamps is a pattern of bad behavior." Jack said.

 

Jesse held up his hands. "Not my fault you don't know your own strength superman."

 

"It  _ is _ your fault when you push me up against the counter though," Jack accused.

 

"And it's your fault when you pick me up and toss me on the bed." Jesse snapped back. "And the couch. And the same counter less than an hour after the first lamp broke!"

 

"I didn't toss you on the counter. That would've hurt. I laid you down gently."

 

"Jack that is so not the point."

 

Jack grinned, leaning forward and kissing him. Jesse returned the kiss warmly. There had been no shortage of affection from Jack, and Jesse had been thoroughly enjoying it.

 

"Come on," Jack said. "Let's get this done. We can finish the bedrooms after." All that was left to do was wash the bedsheets, and Jesse had a sneaking suspicion Jack intended to put them to use one more time before cleaning them. The thought motivated Jesse, who took to cleaning with gusto.

 

They hadn't been especially messy before they'd started going at it, but hadn't been concerned with cleanliness either, their thoughts too preoccupied with each other to pay much attention to what they were doing. A week could generate an impressive amount of trash.

 

"Hey Jack," Jesse started, "I've been wondering something.

 

"Yeah?"

 

"What happened with your program? You started it with me, but then what?"

 

"Ah," Jesse looked over his shoulder at the response.

 

A blush was creeping up Jack's face as he tossed a few wrappers in the bag. He made a show of dusting off his hands, before looking at Jesse, his expression sheepish.

 

"Well, it, uh, doesn't exist."

 

Jesse blinked.

 

"And as a matter, it  _ never _ existed."

 

Jesse blinked again.

 

Jack was blushing crimson now.

 

"I- see, I  _ meant _ it to!" Jack assured him, clearly flustered. "But it wasn't an… established thing. I know at the time I made it sound like I'd just been waiting for a candidate, but that was… well, horse shit. I just wanted to give you an option other than Blackwatch. After that- I always meant to get around to establishing an official program but I was always so busy, and… well, you were already listed as just a personal assistant. It never really needed to be done."

 

"Wha- but-" Jesse spluttered, trying to process this. "But you put restrictions on my pay!"

 

Jack actually looked surprised by that. "I just made those up. Have you really been obeying them this whole time?"

 

"Of course I have! You mean I could've have had a gun this whole time!?"

 

"That- really? That's the first thing you have to say?" Jack seemed disappointed. 

 

"Well you took my Peacekeeper!" Jesse said hotly.

 

"The revolver? It's been in the vault in my office this whole time. You realize you never asked for it back, right?"

 

Jesse grabbed a pillow from the couch and flung it at Jack, trying to smother his laughter. Jack caught the pillow easily and tossed it back on the couch, crossing over to Jesse and trying to kiss him, even though both men were now laughing.

 

"Sorry," Jack said, unconvincingly, as he wrapped his arms around Jesse and rested his chin on Jesse's shoulder. "Forgive me?"

 

"Earn it," Jesse said, attempting a scowl, which only became harder to do as he saw the gleam in Jack's eyes. 

 

"Do I have to wait until we're done cleaning?" Jack asked slyly.

 

With an enormous effort and impressive self-control, Jesse managed to answer,

 

"Yes."

 

* * *

 

Jesse found himself in much the same position he had that morning, albeit an entirely different kind of tired this time.

 

Jack was slowly running his fingers through Jesse's hair, and the soothing motion threatened to put Jesse to sleep.

 

Yawning, Jesse sat up slightly.

 

"I suppose we should clean some other rooms sheets too," He said, leaning back against the headboard next to Jack.

 

"What? Why?" Jack asked, frowning.

 

"Er, well," Jesse answered hesitantly, as he had expected Jack to have already understood why. "So they think we were just doing it be polite. I mean, we can't tell them we were- you know."

 

Jack blinked, and seemed to deflate slightly. 

 

"Right. Because I'm…"

 

"The Strike-Commander, yeah," Jesse finished, frowning at him. "And I'm your assistant. Imagine the press! It'd be a nightmare."

 

Jack didn't disagree, but was in a noticeably subdued mood the rest of the day, as they threw the bedsheets in the bases laundry and went about straightening out the reception, before putting an old movie on while they waited for word about the extraction team.

 

Near the end of the movie, an alarm went off to inform them the team was approaching. They'd already moved their luggage to the reception, and changed into more appropriate clothes there, not exactly feeling shy around each other anymore.

 

Less than an hour later the team arrived in a predictable mess. There were a few professionals checking them over, a couple of the diplomats attached to the project professing their endless concern about them and how happy they were that they were alright, and a small press junket, broadcasting to the world to let them know their Strike Commander was okay.

 

As the professionals took their luggage out to the transport and Jack told the diplomats that the Watchpoint had served them more than adequately, Jesse felt his spirits sinking.

 

Things weren't going to go back to the way they'd been, he had no worry about that, but a week away from the media, and the precious two days they'd had to be together, alone, had been nothing short of wonderful, and he disliked knowing they would have to hide it.

 

He listened to Jack suggesting to the diplomats that they might want to invest in more long-term batteries in the event of a similar storm, standing awkwardly in the center of the room, waiting.

 

Jack finished his conversation, turned to look at Jesse, and then, oddly, turned to look at the camera.

 

Jesse frowned at Jack as the blonde turned back to him and walked over.

 

"Sir?" Jesse asked, a touch nervously.

 

"I was thinking," Jack said, reaching him. "You said that there wasn't much people could stop me from doing if I  _ really _ wanted to, right?"

 

And then, not waiting for an answer, and before Jesse even understood what he was doing, Jack had taken one of his hands with his own, wrapped his other arm around Jesse's shoulders, and pulled him into a deep, burning kiss.

 

Too overwhelmed to even think about the onlookers or the camera, Jesse wrapped his own arms around Jack on instinct, deepening the kiss, and Jack actually dipped him slightly, before standing back up straight and breaking apart, panting for breath.

 

"As King Morrisons first and only decree," Jack murmured, quiet enough so that the camera wouldn't pick it up, "I say that the world is just gonna have to deal with this. We spend far too much time standing in front of cameras for me to not even be able to touch you."

 

"Yeah, okay," Jesse answered weakly, still dazed.

 

Jack straightened him up, wrapping an arm around his middle and holding him close as they made their way out of the base, before he stopped at the door to throw a winning smile at the camera and saying, simply;

 

"It's been a good week."


End file.
